


say it again

by sunsetozier



Series: tumblr prompts [1]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, it's a prompt fill from tumblr, this is really cute imo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 06:16:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14970848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetozier/pseuds/sunsetozier
Summary: Tightening his hold on Eddie’s shoulders, Richie fervently shook his head, an odd, desperate sort of whine rumbling past his lips as he pulled Eddie closer to him, knees pressing into his sides, face burrowed into Eddie’s hair. “Please don’t,” he breathed. “Please don’t go.”Heart melting, Eddie nodded, gripping at the back of Richie’s shirt, and promised, “I won’t, Rich. I’m not going anywhere.”[In which Richie grows up, gets a little touch starved, and Eddie is there to fix it.]





	say it again

**Author's Note:**

> this was a tumblr prompt fill! send me more prompts and i'll add them to this series!
> 
> this specific one shot was based off the dialogue prompt, "We'd make such a cute couple."

            It becomes apparent when they finally move away from Derry and start living together in New York.

            Growing up, Richie was always an affectionate, touchy-feely kind of person. At first, it was much appreciated, his parents loving how much he liked to cuddle with them when watching movies, clambering up to sit on their laps and often passing out within minutes. As he got older, though, and his limbs became long and sharp, hard to contain and often getting in the way, he started getting sent away more and more. Not harshly, no - his parents still wanted to spend time with him, but curling up with them wasn’t an option, and even hugs were often short and not encouraged due to his elbows uncomfortably jabbing into their sides. For a while, this went unnoticed to his friends, only evident in how squirmy and tense he got as time went on and he slowly became more and more touch starved. Until one day, somewhere deep into the heat of summer where the feeling of the sun against your skin makes you lazy, drowsy, and ready to go to bed, when someone finally realized what was going on.

            And that someone was, unsurprisingly, the one and only Eddie Kaspbrak.

            It had been a pretty average day, spent by the water in the Quarry, going back and forth between dipping their feet in the water to cool off and laying in the grass to soak in the warmth, trying not to let it lull them to sleep. So far, Beverly was the only one who had succumbed to the groggy feeling, her head on Mike’s shoulder and feet resting in Stan’s lap, but it was clear that the others weren’t very far behind her, everyone sporting droopy eyelids and somewhat slurred words. The second one to give in was Mike, he cheek pressed to the crown of Beverly’s head, followed shortly by Ben, who was curled up on the ground with his head resting on Bev’s thighs, Bill sprawled beside him with his own head cradled in the nook of his arm. Stan was leaning against the trunk of a tree when he dozed off, shoulders slumped and neck bent at a somewhat awkward angle as his head rolled to the side.

            Eddie and Richie were the only ones still awake, Eddie halfway tucked into Stan’s side with his eyes half-lidded and his lips only parting to let out quiet little yawns, reaching out to his right to try and grasp onto Richie’s loose t-shirt, but he came up empty handed. Confused, he dragged his gaze over and blinked slowly when he saw Richie sitting five feet away, pressed against a completely different tree with his legs drawn to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around his shins, chin resting on top of his knees as he gazed at his friends with an anxious longing in his eyes. When he saw that Eddie was looking at him, he glanced away quickly, something akin to shame tugging at the corners of his lips, creating a deep grimace that only managed to cause worry to bloom within Eddie’s chest. Softly, not wanting to stir any of the others, he asked, “Rich, what’re you doin’ over there?”

            “Hm?” Richie hummed, only briefly meeting Eddie’s gaze before looking away again, staring intently down at his linked hands as he offered a meek little shrug. “Oh, um- nothing, just... don’t wanna bug anyone, I guess.”

            “Bug anyone?” Eddie questioned, even more concerned. He wasn’t as sleepy as he had been before and decided to get closer, carefully lifting Stan’s arm off of him and gently setting it onto Beverly’s legs. Stan let out a little huff, shifting his head back to rest against the tree, but otherwise remained out. Crawling along the grass to close the space between them, he plopped himself beside Richie, cocked his head to the side, and added, “What does that mean?”

            Shrugging again, looking almost at a loss for words, Richie answered, “I mean, like...” He paused, unclasping his hands and holding his arms out in front of him, frowning down at the gangly limbs and shaking his head slightly. “I’d just get in the way, you know? Like, I’d be elbowing someone and it’d get annoying, so I’m just... I dunno. I’m fine being over here.”

            With a little huff, Eddie pointedly looked over his shoulder and stated, “Look at ‘em, Rich. Do you really think any of us give a shit about a knee or an elbow? We’re literally on the  _ground_. There are rocks  _everywhere_.”

            “Yeah, but...” Richie trailed off, unable to think of a proper response to try and explain how much he’d been struggling with this simple thing. How, ever since his parents started turning up their nose to his affectionate advances, any sort of touching had begun to feel like he was a burden, an annoyance, something to be shoved away in some sort of disgust. He didn’t know how to explain that without making it sound like he wanted pity, so instead he said, “It’s different, I guess.”

            Eddie hummed and let a silence hang over them, glancing back and forth between Richie and the sleeping dog pile behind him, contemplating what he’d heard.

            And, suddenly, it clicked.

            “When was the last time someone hugged you, Rich?”

            Richie looked up, his features strained as if he’d been physically shocked, and silently shook his head once, trying to signify that he didn’t want to talk about it. But Eddie was persistent and scooted a few inches closer, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

            “Richie,” he murmured. “Answer me.”

            “I...” Richie winced, jerking his head back and bringing his hands up to clutch at his knees, fingernails digging into the skin of his legs. Silently, Eddie reached forward and placed his hands on top of Richie’s, who instinctively snatched them away and held them to his chest, eyes going wide. Unable to think of a way out of this situation, he hoarsely whispered, “I don’t know.”

            A sad little noise came from the back of Eddie’s throat, unsure of how to respond, and opted to just gently place his palm on Richie’s knee comfortingly. Immediately, Richie stiffened, eyeing Eddie warily, but he didn’t pull back, subconsciously pushing up into the contact. Shuffling over to kneel directly in front of Richie, he placed his other hand on Richie’s other knee and squeezed both of them slightly, trying to get Richie to relax. “Why?”

            Licking his lower lip nervously, Richie just moved his hands away from himself, once again stretching his arms out in front of him and scanning over them, distaste clear in his eyes. For a moment, he looked almost like a child, his brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, a pout on his lips that was far more endearing then it should have been. Eddie almost smiled, but then Richie told him, “’Cause I’m all, like, lanky and annoying, y’know? Can’t do anything without getting in the way or jabbing at someone. It just- it doesn’t work.”

            Eddie faltered, shocked, and then instantly spat out, “Oh, that’s such  _bullshit!_  Who told you that?”

            “Um.” Richie looked at him, somewhat flabbergasted by his reaction, and slowly shook his head. “No one, I guess. It was just kind of obvious when people stopped trying to hug me and no one wanted to cuddle with me anymore.”

            “When no one wanted to-?” Eddie scoffed, and without any sort of warning, he used his grip on Richie’s knees to spread his legs and shuffled forward, encircling his arms around his torso and falling forward into some sort of embrace. “No one cuddled you because you were the one who always initiated it, dumbass,” he mumbled into Richie’s chest, unable to bite back a grin as Richie tentatively wrapped his own arms around Eddie’s shoulders. “We thought you wanted space, so we were waiting until you started initiating it again.” His grin instantly fell as he felt Richie tremble, a shaky breath leaving his lips and brushing against Eddie’s hair. Beginning to pull back, Eddie stammered out, “Unless you really  _do_ want space, then I can just-”

            Tightening his hold on Eddie’s shoulders, Richie fervently shook his head, an odd, desperate sort of whine rumbling past his lips as he pulled Eddie closer to him, knees pressing into his sides, face burrowed into Eddie’s hair. “Please don’t,” he breathed. “Please don’t go.”

            Heart melting, Eddie nodded, gripping at the back of Richie’s shirt, and promised, “I won’t, Rich. I’m not going anywhere.”

            After that, Eddie became the main source of Richie’s affection. Occasionally he rested with Beverly or Stan and often let any of the losers use him as a pillow, but other than it, it was only Eddie that he was okay with being so close with. Nobody thought much of it, considering the fact that they had always been pretty intertwined ever since they first met, but they could never figure out where the line between  _friendly_ and  _more_  seemed to rest.

            And, well, once they’re living in New York, sharing a dorm room at NYU and spending almost all of their time clinging to one another, it becomes pretty obvious to everyone around them that there’s definitely something there. Something... different. Complex, maybe, but incredibly simple, as well. If only they were able to figure it out themselves.

            It starts during their first semester at NYU, where they have a majority of their classes together, seeking comfort from one another to try and ease themselves into life in college. When they get lost, they instinctively grasp each others hands to assure one another that they won’t be separated, and more often than not, they forget to let go until it’s absolutely necessary - usually when they have to separate or when they get back to their dorm and have to work on their classwork. When one of them gets tired, they lean against the other, resting their head on the other’s shoulder and fighting to keep their eyes open, often dozing off after a few minutes and murmuring complete nonsense in their sleep. It’s during one of their lectures, actually - English 101, a class that’s easy for them to pass and impossible to sit through - when Eddie ends up hunched over in his seat, cheek pressed to the curve of Richie’s shoulder, lips forming words that are far too soft to be heard. Richie’s can’t even _try_ to suppress his fond grin as he glances between Eddie’s sleep-slackened features and the notes he’s copying off the board.

            Behind them, a girl lets out a quiet  _psst_ , trying to draw Richie’s attention. It takes a few tries before she gives up and reaches forward to tap the shoulder that Eddie isn’t leaning against, making him look back at her in shock, brows twitching up in silent question. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you,” she whispers quietly, her smile gentle and genuine, “but I just had to say that you two are really cute together.”

            “What?” Richie asks, confused, but the meaning behind her words is pretty clear, causing his eyes to widen slightly as he looks down at Eddie. Protests form on the tip of his tongue, ready to be stuttered out in an unconvincing fashion, but he swallows them back before they can get past his lips. Offering a strained smile, his eyes clearly conflicted, he simply tells her, “Um- thanks,” and promptly looks forward, his cheeks flushed as he resists the urge to look down at Eddie again.

            And it just... it keeps  _happening_ after that, random people telling Richie how cute the two of them are when Eddie’s out of ear shot, leaving Richie flustered every single time. He doesn’t know why he hasn’t denied it yet, instead going along with what people say and murmuring a quiet thank you before turning away, his face red and his fingers twitching with a strange, antsy energy that he doesn’t understand.

            It sticks with him, really, as the weeks go by and they keep acting as they normally do, and despite the fact that Richie is only getting more and more confused, it’s not like he can _stop_ being affectionate with Eddie. There’s no one else in New York that he’s willing to be cuddly with, and the last time he deprived himself of touch it fucked him up so bad that simply hugging Eddie brought him to the brink of tears. So, he keeps holding Eddie’s hand and curling up with him when they’re in their dorm, and he tries not to focus too much on what all of it could mean.

            Until, like most things, it tumbles thoughtlessly out of his mouth.

            They’re in their room, taking a break from studying for the upcoming finals that’ll signify the end of their first year. Eddie is already tired and compliant, opting to be held rather than holding Richie for now, resulting in him clambering onto Richie’s lap and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, tucking his face into Richie’s neck with a content little sigh that brushes softly over Richie’s skin and sends a shiver down his spine. From where they’re sitting, Richie leaning against the headboard of his bed, he can see their reflection in the smooth silver of their mini fridge across the room, and there’s something about about seeing how they look like this, how other people probably see them, that really gets to him.

            Eddie isn’t short or small, not by any means, but Richie is definitely a giant in comparison to his average height and size. There’s approximately six inches between them, which doesn’t sound like much but leaves Richie, a full 6′2, towering over Eddie, a simple 5′8. When they were younger, Eddie always complained about this, but he came around to accepting it as it was when they were around seventeen and he discovered how comfortable it is to be curled up in the lap of someone much larger than him. Like now, for example.

            And it really is something incredible, Richie thinks, how nice they fit together. It’s an even split of how often they cuddle into one another, Richie sitting in Eddie’s lap as often as Eddie sits in his, but actually meeting his own gaze and seeing how their edges blend together... it’s fucking stifling, that’s what it is. Because here’s the thing: the two of them fit like a puzzle, like they were made to be close like this, even though that’s clearly not true. Objectively, they clash in many places, knees knocking into shins and elbows nearly causing bloody noses as they maneuver towards one another, but once they’re situated and settled, it’s... it’s perfect, really. That’s the only word that he can think of that can even come close to the warmth in his chest.

            With these thoughts occupying his mind, he doesn’t have any focus on what comes out of his mouth, and before he even realizes what’s happening, he finds himself saying, “We’d make such a cute couple.”

            In his lap, Eddie goes stiff, the comfortable silence that had been blanketing them turning tense and chilling as Richie swallows the lump that instantly forms in his throat. His heart picks up speed as Eddie slowly releases Richie’s shirt from his grip, leaning back in a way that feels like slow motion, until he can meet Richie’s gaze with his eyes blown wide in shock. “What did you just say?”

            “I-” Richie cuts off, the realization of what he just did dawning on him and making his breath pick up speed just slightly. “I don’t- I mean- I didn’t mean to-”

            “Richie,” Eddie interrupts, voice steady and stern. “What did you just say?”

            Helplessly, Richie averts his gaze, training his eyes on their reflection once more and trying to will his heart rate to go back to a normal speed. Softly, almost shamefully, he whispers, “I said that we’d make a cute couple.”

            Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat. “Say it again.”

            Blinking once, Richie looks back and finds Eddie’s eyes glimmering, watching him with an incredulous look on his face.

            “Say it again,” Eddie repeats, clutching onto the collar of Richie’s shirt and tugging him closer, noses brushing lightly against one another. “Please.”

            Taking a deep breath, Richie allows his hands to tighten on Eddie’s hips, fingers digging in a little too hard. At this point, it feels like he’s choking on the words as he gets them out, unable to comprehend the fact that this hasn’t turned into something bad quite yet, that Eddie is pulling him in instead of pushing him away. “We’d make a cute couple,” he practically whispers. Eddie’s hands release Richie’s collar and cautiously slide their way up, slow enough to give Richie the chance to pull away, until his palms are cradling Richie’s cheeks.

            “Again,” he requests, turning his head and pressing his nose to Richie’s cheekbone, right above where his thumb is softly caressing Richie’s skin, their breath ghosting onto each others faces.

            Something akin to a whimper makes it’s way from the back of Richie’s throat, sounding a lot like the whine he released back when they were younger and holding one another by the Quarry. Breathlessly, feeling the lightest touch of Eddie’s lips on his own as he speaks, he says, “We’d make-”

            Before he can finish his sentence, Eddie presses forward and connects their lips together, a joyfully desperate noise getting muffled by Richie’s mouth as they kiss, kiss, kiss. Richie almost can’t believe it’s happening, but he knows this isn’t a dream; never in a million years could his mind create a feeling as blissful as this. He doesn’t even know how long they stay like that, hands grasping anything they can and lips moving together, so much heat building between them that he can feel Eddie’s palms get damp with a sheen of sweat, but he doesn’t care as Eddie pulls away with a gasp for air, panting slightly, a string of saliva connecting their lips that would be disgusting if it were anyone else.

            “Jesus Christ,” Richie breathes, pressing his forehead to Eddie’s shoulder and encircling Eddie’s waist with his arms, pulling him impossibly closer. “ _Fuck._  Please tell me that wasn’t just for fun?”

            With a soft little laugh, Eddie turns his head and presses a gentle little kiss to the juncture between Richie’s neck and his shoulder. “It was definitely fun,” he points out with a hum, the vibrations against Richie’s skin causing an involuntary shudder to run down his spine, “but no. That was more than just for fun.”

            Unable to hold back the grin that breaks out on Richie’s face, he nuzzles further into Eddie’s shirt and says, “Oh, thank  _god_. Does this mean I can take you out to dinner or something? And, like, not in a friendly way?”

            “Yes, Richie,” Eddie answers through a chuckle, pulling back just enough to connect their lips once more, though this time it’s sweet and chaste. “That’s exactly what this means.”

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think! hmu on tumblr @ sunsetozier!


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